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Those few seconds seemed like forever.
But she did move. Her body pressed against his a little more firmly and he felt her rise up on her tiptoes. Her lips brushed gently against his, then with a little more confidence her kisses became surer. His hands moved to her ribs; he could feel her deep breaths against the palms of his hands. He couldn’t stop them. He wanted to do more.
She had one hand on his back, the other at the side of his face as she deepened their kiss, teasing him with her tongue.
It was driving him crazy. She was driving him crazy.
He wanted to release the emotions and passions that were currently stifled in his chest doing their best impression of a smouldering volcano. But Carrie had to feel in control. He could sense how important that was.
He had to concentrate. He couldn’t lose himself in this. It was far too tempting. Far too tempting by half.
All he had to do was edge his hands a little higher and then he would feel her warm skin, be able to cup the warm mounds of her breasts and...
He stepped back. Slowly, pulling his lips apart from hers. Careful to let her know he hadn’t suddenly changed his mind about this.
His voice was hoarse. Too much pent-up expectation. ‘I hate to remind you, Carrie McKenzie, but we have a sleeping baby downstairs. We’ve only been gone a few minutes but if you distract me for another second...’ He let his voice drift off, leaving her in no doubt as to his meaning.
He wasn’t pulling away from her because he didn’t want to kiss her.
He was pulling away because right now he should.
She bit her lip.
A tiny movement. And one that could be the complete undoing of him. He wanted to slam her apartment door shut and drag her through to the bedroom. And forget about everything else and everyone.
But on the floor underneath them lay a little boy. He’d already been abandoned by one adult. He certainly didn’t need to be abandoned by two others.
Daniel’s sense of duty ground down on his chest.
He tugged at his jeans, trying to adjust them. Some human reactions were as natural as breathing.
Others he would have to control.
She nodded. ‘Let me grab a few things that I might need.’ She picked up one of the candles and walked over to her bedroom, opening a cupboard and pulling a few items of clothing out.
In the flickering candlelight he could make out the outline of her bed and possessions scattered around the room. A smile danced across his lips. Carrie McKenzie’s bedroom. Would he ever get an invite into there?
It wasn’t entirely what he’d expected. No flowers. No pink.
A bright green duvet, a mountain of pillows and a matching fleece comforter across the bottom of the bed. An electronic tablet and a few books were scattered on the bedside table, along with a few other obligatory candles. He wondered what scent they were. What scent she liked to fall asleep to.
A silver box lay on top of the bedclothes.
Her eyes flickered over to it and there was something—was it panic?—before she moved quickly, picked up the box and tucked it under the bed. She tucked the assorted clothes under her arm and appeared under his nose. ‘Ready.’
It was just a little too bright. A little too forced. As if she was trying to distract him.
He’d just been kissing this woman but there were still parts of her she wanted to keep hidden. A tiny flare of anger lit in his stomach, only for him to extinguish it almost as quickly. He should know better than most. Everyone had secrets they wanted to hide. Parts of their life they wanted to remain hidden. Why should Carrie be any different?
‘Let’s go. We need to check on Abraham, and Mrs Van Dyke.’
He turned to follow her out of the door. And then it hit him.
That was what was wrong with this place.
There was nothing really of Carrie.
Oh, she might have her candles and a few books.
But there were no photos. Not a single one.
It sent a strange sensation down his spine. Every woman he’d ever known had pictures of their friends and family dotted around. Even he had some family pictures in various places around his apartment.
Carrie didn’t have one. Not a single one.
What did that mean? She’d been here two months, surely enough time to get some family snaps out. Wasn’t there anyone to miss back home?
‘Dan, what’s wrong? Let’s go.’ Carrie stuck her head back around the door, her impatience clear. Or was it her hurry to get him out of her apartment?
With one last look around he followed her out and pulled the door shut behind him.
There was more to Carrie McKenzie than met the eye.
And he was determined to get to the bottom of it.
CHAPTER SEVEN
WHEN CARRIE OPENED her eyes that morning it was to a totally different sight.
Blue walls and white bed linen.
The disorientation was over in an instant. She drew in a deep breath. It was strange waking up in someone else’s bed.
She’d felt like that the first few nights in the apartment upstairs. Then, after a week, she hadn’t even noticed. It just proved to her how much home in London hadn’t really felt like home any more.
Dan’s place was much more lived-in than hers. But then, he’d spent most of his life here. In amongst the state-of-the-art television and digital sound system, there were tiny ornaments, old picture frames and the odd piece of antique furniture. The little dark wood side table next to the door was her favourite. He hadn’t really said much about how he’d ended up living with his grandmother and she didn’t want to pry.
Just as she didn’t want him to pry too much, either.
An unconscious smile crept across her face. He’d kissed her.
And she’d kissed him back.
Her first kiss since...
And it felt nice. It felt good.
Actually it felt a lot more than all that. Nice and good made it sound like a safe kiss. A kiss that was taking her on the road to recovery.
But Dan’s kiss had ignited a whole lot more than that in her. She almost couldn’t sleep last night when they’d parted. It was amazing how long you could lie staring up at the ceiling while your brain was on a spin cycle.
She looked around the room. A pair of his boots were on the floor, along with a pair of jeans slung across a chair. She could almost still see the shape of his body in those jeans. And it sent another lot of little pulses skittering across her skin.
Dan had decided to do the night shift last night. She was almost sure another two slices of her chocolate cake had been the appropriate bribe for him to spend the night on his lumpy sofa.
Abraham. He appeared in her thoughts like a flash and she sat upright in bed.
She hadn’t heard him. She hadn’t heard him at all.
A chill spread across her body instantly, reaching straight down into the pit of her stomach. Sending its icy tendrils around her heart.
No. Surely not.
She was up and out of the bedroom before her feet even felt as if they’d touched the wooden floor. Her steps across the floor the quickest she’d ever moved. Her breath caught in her throat and she leaned over the crib.
Empty. It was empty.
She spun around. ‘Dan—’ And stopped dead.
Dan was upright on the sofa, fast asleep with Abraham tucked against his shoulder. She’d obviously missed quite a bit last night. Why hadn’t he woken her up? More importantly, why hadn’t she heard?
In her haste across the room she hadn’t even looked over at his slumped frame. She’d been so focused on Abraham. So focused on the baby.
Dan’s eyes flickered open and he lifted his hand covered in the cast to rub his sleep-ridden eyes. ‘Wake m
